


Think Twice

by BBJ_3



Category: Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bruce Wayne, Fingering, Jealous Arthur, M/M, Pining Clark Kent, Possessive Arthur Curry, Possessive Behavior, Protective Arthur, Top Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBJ_3/pseuds/BBJ_3
Summary: After Superman's return, Arthur politely lets Clark in on some changes and new rules.1. Bruce Wayne is off-limits.





	Think Twice

There's no way Arthur doesn't know he's there. Aquaman had invited him, suggesting he wanted to help Clark Kent catch up with everything that had changed since his death and resurrection, but this wasn't what Clark expected. Bent over his desk, Bruce bit back a moan, and heat raced through Kryptonian flesh. Beneath the weight of his suit, his cock stirred. Social nicities would have him leave. Perhaps Arthur lost track of time. Before - in the small gap when there had almost been more between him and Bruce, he'd forgotten the world because of Bruce's lips and the feel of his skin. The tight heat of his ass stole time, so there was every reason Arthur might have forgotten about his letter. 

The two Justice League founding members are lost to the world. Arthur's large hands are dark on Bruce's pale hips. The crosshatching of scars up Bruce's back serve as a pathway for the taller man's tongue, and Clark's throat goes dry. He remembers pressing kisses between Bruce's shoulder blades. In this quiet moment, the world tilts. Though Clark never imagined how Arthur would fuck, the near silent way Bruce worked didn't fit his image. Then again, as Arthur wraps a hand around Bruce's cock, jacking him off as his thrusts became harder, the whimper and then wanton moan which bursts from Bruce's lips is nothing like Clark had heard before.

They get close, and Arthur stops. His strange blue-green eyes jumped to Clark's blue, and a smirk slides its way across his tanned features. Spinning Bruce, he lifted the smaller man into the air. Like a well-practiced dance, Bruce wraps his arms around Arthur's shoulders. His legs wrap around the man's hips, and Arthur guides his dick back in as he sidesteps to slam Bruce against the wall. Beneath the collar-line of the Batman's suit, bite marks and hickeys mar the man's skin. When Arthur leans down to suck one up Bruce's neck - a mark where anyone might see, the other doesn't stop him, and Clark's heart sinks. 

"Arthur," Bruce groans.

His fingers curl as his thighs flex, pulling the man closer with each thrust. Arthur hums against the man's skin, and Bruce's dark eyes seem black in the second before he tugs the half-Atlantean's mouth up to meet his own.  And god, doesn't Bruce look beautiful? His dark hair ruffled out of place. His eyes blazing. All the tight lines of his muscular body curl and arch like an art form, leaving Clark desperate and hungry for something that slips through his fingers with each second. 

The sight hurts. Not that any promises are between them. Bruce knew about Lois, and while they weren't exactly exclusive, the relationship had seemed so much more serious than his relationship with Bruce, but after everything - with how delicate Lois is - how much she pushes when he needs someone beside him - everything he thought did and didn't matter until he died and just wanted to kiss Bruce one last time - laugh with him, hold him, and waking back up, seeing Bruce but not seeing him. The whole mess with Lois - and then the mutual breaking each other's heart and relief when they actually weren't because she deserved more and he couldn't ever give her it. Rushing back, but there wasn't a gap of time to speak, and now - Arthur and Bruce tumble over the edge together - only a minute or less apart, and as Arthur presses their foreheads together - breathing the same air, Clark feels like he's died all over again. 

Stepping back - but unable to fully leave, Clark leans against the wall outside Arthur's door, letting his eyes close. Why does he even bother with x-ray vision? It doesn't even have a fully accurate name for it, and he rarely sees anything that doesn't wreck him later. As he attempts to calm the confusion and sorrow raging inside, Clark loses track of his senses, and only Arthur clearing his throat brought him back down.

"Superman," the king of Atlantis greets.

Forcing himself to stand, Clark nods. "Aquaman."

"Thought that would be quicker and neater than an awkward talk, so any questions?" Arthur asks.

"What?"

"Bruce and I - we're together."

Clark's jaw drops. His mind races, but all he can do is gasp. "You knew? You planned this?"

"Well, yeah."

"Does Bruce...?"

Arthur shrugs, leaning against the door, and he's still smirking. His hairs a mess - the just fucked look, and the smugness radiating off him pushes Clark closer to the edge. "Probably. He's Bruce."

And Arthur has a point. Bruce watches everyone like a hawk, and while there's a chance he hadn't realized what Arthur planned, that chance is slim to none. Bruce hadn't seemed to be avoiding him. They'd talked about League business and general small talk. Never enough time for anything deep or private, and maybe that was a sign. Bruce knew how to work a crowd. If he wanted time to figure out where they stood, time would've appeared. That's just how Bruce worked. Instead, the other man had let Arthur plan a ridiculous reveal. A painful and cruel scene so there could be no doubt about who Bruce is with - who Bruce wants. It's callous, but also - there's a needless cruelty to it which doesn't feel like Bruce. 

"Why?"

"Thought you might have questions about why we room together. Why Bruce Wayne spends so much time in Atlantis...you know, that kind of thing," Arthur says with a shrug like he hasn't just torn Clark's hopes apart. "You've been dead and then gone, so...thought something more than a head's up might be needed. I mean, seriously, you missed all the signs."

And he's not wrong. The arm slung around Bruce's shoulders. They orbited each other, Bruce turning toward Arthur like a flower to sun. Arthur doing just the same. Every smirk at Arthur's dry jokes or sly bravado. The way they volleyed sarcastic retorts back and forth like a game. All that screamed friendship on first glance, but looking back, Clark never had a chance. If that's the way Bruce flirts, he had never been flirting with him. 

"And you both are serious?" Clark's eyes narrow. "I thought you were married to Mera."

"Self-arranged political and all," Arthur dismisses.

"And your citizens are fine with it?"

"Who in their right minds would complain about their king being in bed with the Batman?" Arthur chuckles like Clark's a complete idiot, and maybe he is. 

Backing away, Clark prepares to finally retreat. "An email would be fine next time."

"Next time?" Arthur arches a brow.

"When you break up," Clark drawls - and it's as mean as he's capable of being at the moment without risking losing all control. 

Arthur shakes his head. His grin is positively vicious. "I'm not an idiot, Kent. Only next time is our engagement - oh? Didn't I mention Atlanteans can have polyamorous marriages? Mera's pretty fond of Bruce too, ya know." Turning, he calls over his shoulder. "Plus, my crown looks hot as fuck on him."

As the door closes behind the man, Clark beats a hasty retreat. The image of Bruce in a crown and nothing else haunts him, and though he races to every minor catastrophe around the globe, he still jerks off to the way Bruce moaned - to those bites decorating his skin being Clark's own and the way the mark of the House of El would look branded over his heart. 

 


End file.
